Hush
by Super Chocolate Bear
Summary: Preparations are being made for a music festival to end all music festivals. But the phone lines are becoming clogged with sales calls, and people are starting to disappear…
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who._

_**Hush**_

_**Prologue**_

Another truck trundled loudly past the window. That made, what? Three in the last half hour? Outrageous. Completely Outrageous.

Gregory shook his head. Why on Earth did they insist on holding that horrible event here? No-one in the village wanted it. He and Deirdre had said as much during all the council meetings.

But _no_, the local council thought it was a good idea, so, of course, it was a good idea. Tourism, they said. Publicity for the village.

Gregory didn't _want _publicity. He was happy to have his quiet little village to himself, thank you very much. Happy to know everyone on sight, good and bad. Though there weren't many bad people. Except for that Scottish fella on the outskirts with his sports car, occasionally blasting his way through the streets at unhealthy speeds. He was probably going to this festival thing with some inappropriately aged girl. Or boy. Could be either, judging by his haircut.

"Was that another lorry?" Deirdre said, her voice bouncing in from the kitchen.

Sighing, Gregory nodded. "That it was, Deirdre. Oh, and here comes another one."

This one seemed to be ten times louder than usual, and Gregory had to bellow to be heard over the rumbling din.

"How many bloody lorries do they need?! I thought all these young people were worried about the o-zone layer! What do they think _this_ is doing?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the phone beside his armchair started to ring. Letting out a grumbled sigh, Gregory picked up the phone, though he doubted he would be able to hear anything through the noise.

"Hello?"

There it was. That telltale silence that always preceded one of those bloody sales calls.

"Oh, bloody hell. Deirdre, it's only a sales call. For the love of-"

* * *

Deirdre wasn't prone to emotional outbursts, like crying or screaming. To be honest, she found it distasteful, and vulgar. Hold yourself in check, that's what she was always taught.

But even she drew the line at watching her husband pick up the phone only to promptly disintegrate into dust.


	2. The Varying Definitions of Fun

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_**Hush**_

_**Chapter One: The Varying Definitions of Fun**_

Soggy grass inexplicably flattened and rain-drenched mud sank inwards, as through crushed by some invisible crate. If anyone had been able to hear over the noise of lorries and the general business of organising a music festival, they probably would have found the strange grinding noise a little disconcerting, seeing as it was completely unlike any other sound one would find at such an event.

But as it is, no-one noticed the tall blue box fade into existence behind a hedge, the pulsing light that signalled its arrival only just visible over the top of the tightly collected leaves.

The doors to the TARDIS creaked open, and the Doctor eagerly leapt straight out and into the hedge.

With a collection of incredibly loud and uncomfortable noises, the Doctor thrashed and fumbled his way through the scratchy and frankly hazardous shrubbery before emerging out the other side, tumbling onto his back. Twisting his features around, the Doctor spat out the collection of leaves that had gathered in his mouth.

He tried his very best to ignore the breathless laughter of the Ponds as their silhouetted heads appeared above him.

Rory recovered first, through just barely. "There are… _literally _no words."

"Actually, I can think of quite a few," Amy managed, her voice still wobbling at the _obvious hilarity _of the situation as she dumped his Stetson on his face. "Why didn't you just wait and see what was outside before you jumped out?"

Doing his best not to huff, the Doctor leapt to his feet and secured the hat on his head. "I was excited."

"So you jumped into a bush?"

"Very excited."

"Like a dog going on walkies?"

"Nothing wrong with being excited. Nothing wrong with walkies. There's something about that first sniff…"

Mr Pond's smile faltered a little. "Okay, now you're talking like you've actually _been _a dog. Which… concerns me."

"Semi-annual 'Be a Dog' day on Clamdor Three, I'll take you sometime," the Doctor said, surging through the Ponds and rubbing his hands together. "Now, where are we?"

Having recovered from the hedge incident with practised time-traveller ease, Amy and Rory took up positions either side of the Time Lord.

"Is that…" Rory squinted as he strained to see. "Is that a burger van?"

"And that's a stage," Amy pointed out. She looked at her formerly Raggedy friend, who was looking suitably pleased and smug. "Doctor… have you brought us to a music festival?"

He tugged at the lapels of his long green coat in a very self-satisfied manner. "Certainly looks that way."

"Woah wait," Rory blurted, holding his hands out in front of him. "Have you brought us somewhere we would _actually _want to go?"

"Maybe."

"No monsters?" Amy asked.

"Guessing not."

"No homicidal clones?" Rory added.

"Nope."

"No alien death rituals?" Mrs Pond asked.

"No."

"No killer robots?" Mr Pond enquired.

"None at all."

The Ponds looked at each other, smiling inanely.

"This is _amazing_!" Rory yelled, shaking his fists at the sky.

Amy gave the Time Lord a hug. "Thank you so much."

"Ah, it was nothing. You know, you two, the Ponds, the brilliant, amazing Ponds, you deserve something normal and fun and-"

"You brought us here by accident, didn't you?" Amy said flatly.

"Completely, yeah," the Doctor sighed, bowing his head. "But! You're here, I brought you, so as far as I'm concerned, the hug was still valid."

Rory looked like he would explode at any minute. "Hug? I could kiss you."

He went off to join the festivities, leaving the Doctor to grumble to Amy as they followed along. "I really don't understand humans. The way you're going on about it, it's like this is somehow better than dinosaurs on a spaceship or a hotel haunted by a minotaur creature."

* * *

Ed was a very busy man. Or at least, he liked to think he was. So many things to keep an eye on, making sure there was nothing unauthorised or illegal going on. Unfortunately for him, everyone was being pretty well behaved so far. And so, Ed was left to idly watch festival-goers wander around the different stands, waiting for the first set of the festival to start on the main stage.

That said, he _did _know everyone here was authorised. There was an odd sense of power in knowing that as he overlooked the whole thing from beside his Portakabin. Everyone with their proper ID, passes fastened around their neck on red lanyards, as enforced by him and his staff.

…except for the three sauntering down the hill, one of whom was a sulking cowboy. They were new. They looked to just walk into the festival without so much as a how-do-you-do, so Ed bustled over to stand in their way.

"Excuse me," he announced, his voice deepening as it did when addressing new people (especially those who could be trouble). "This isn't the right entrance. The entrance is over there."

The cowboy (who, bizarrely, was wearing a bowtie - weirdo students) looked disinterestedly at the entrance. "Oh. Well. Sorry. Here now, eh?"

He made to move around Ed, which irked him, to put it mildly. The security officer again stepped in front of him.

"How did you even get in that way? The area's fenced off all around." Ed gave them all 'the eye' in an effort to intimidate. "It's not exactly fair to be sneaking in, is it?"

A microphone squealed from the main stage, but it was too distant to cause anyone any discomfort.

Except for the cowboy, it seemed, whose face scrunched up as he wiggled his little finger in his ear. "Sorry, sensitive ears."

"_Big_ ears," the girl added.

"Hence the hat," the cowboy finished, neither of them missing a beat. "So, yes, what were we-? Sneaking! Right. No, not sneaking. Sneaking? What? No! Horrible thing to say. I expect better of you, young man."

This made Ed frown, as he was at least fifteen years older than the lanky cowboy stood before him.

The girl seemed to notice this discrepancy, and nudged her bowtie wearing friend. He turned to face her, and they had a whispered conversation.

The other lad, who had up to this point been silent, gave Ed a polite smile. "Sorry, team discussion."

With that, he ducked his head down so the three of them resembled an American football huddle. Ed's patience - which had been stretched as soon as the young man had dismissed the proper entrance - was reaching breaking point, and he was going to make a move when something the girl said got a reaction out of the cowboy.

"Young?! But I'm over a thousand-"

She shushed him vehemently. The third man added something which seemed to calm their friend down.

They all re-emerged in perfect sync, putting on a collective smile.

"Hey," the cowboy said. But he seemed disappointed with himself, and so tried it again, attempting smoother and smoother ways of saying the word 'Hey'. The eventual result was something akin to the Fonz from Happy Days.

"Hey. Man. I'm all… yeah, here, and young, and… stuff. I don't like learning, learning is all horrible, and school… no. Yeah. So, yeah… we're just here for all the funky… music… stuff. Which is cool. Funky music stuff is cool."

Ed stared at him. His two friends were both covering their faces.

Completely caught off-guard that his bizarre speech hadn't worked, the cowboy glanced back at his friends, clearly unsure of what to do. When no help was forthcoming, he started talking again.

"So I was saying about funky music stuff-"

This seemed to be the tipping point for the redhead. "Oh, for…"

She surged forward and plunged her hand into the cowboy's inside pocket, who looked confused and irritated by the intrusion. She produced a thin leather wallet.

"There. Health and safety. All of us, health and safety."

Clearly pleased by this announcement, the cowboy smiled and nodded. "Ah… nice one, Pond." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, we're all young cool health and safety people. With cool funky music names like-"

He turned and pointed to the girl. "-Pond-"

He pointed to the boy. "-Roranicus-"

He whirled on the spot and pointed two thumbs at his chest. "-and KABLAMMO!"

The other two exchanged a worried look and mouthed 'KABLAMMO' at each other.

It sounded very odd to Ed as well. But, sure enough, that was what was on the wallet Pond had given him. But there was just one problem.

"There's just one problem."

The cowboy (Ed refused to think of him as KABLAMMO just yet) looked like a petulant child, his shoulders drooping and arms swinging. "What? We're health and safety, let us go down there and… health and safety them! They clearly need our help." Something in the crowd caught his eye. "I mean, look at that, that… _really _can't be hygienic. Where are his _trousers_?"

Rather than look at what the increasingly strange visitor was pointing out, Ed instead focused his attention on the cowboy's two friends, who by far seemed to be the saner people in the group.

"We've already got a health & safety crew. Ellie's in charge. She didn't mention anyone else coming in."

Roranicus put his hands on his hips in a pretty unconvincing attempt at being authoritative. "Oh, we're… special health and safety. To take care of… special things. And it might look like we're just here enjoying the festival, but really… we're doing lots of _really _important healthy things."

"Not to mention safe," Pond added.

"Yeah. Yeah. Healthy and safe."

Ed gave them both a good dose of 'the eye' before speaking. "I think I'll talk to Ellie."

"Thought you would," Roranicus sighed, thrusting his hands into his pockets in dejected acceptance.

While they joined their cowboy friend - who had since pulled out some tiny binoculars - in looking at the crowd below, Ed radioed to Ellie, and waited for a response.

And waited.

And waited.

The cowboy, in the meantime, had handed his binoculars to Roranicus, who was mesmerised by something going on down below. Pond was very eager for him to stop hogging them.

Frowning, Ed tried again. "Ellie?"

Dread knotted in his belly. _Not again… _After another couple of fruitless tries, he reluctantly shouted to the bizarre trio that had just entered his working day. "All right, you lot, with me. We're going to see Ellie."

The cowboy sprang to his feet and clapped his hands together. "Yeah, Ellie! Great band, love 'em."

He sensed rather than saw the disapproving look of his companions. "No? Sorry, wasn't listening. So, Ellie! The person…?"

Pond and Roranicus nodded.

"Right. The person Ellie. Let's see her."

Ed led the way, the three of them following a couple of paces behind.

"And Ellie's a good singer, is she?"

A loud groan escaped Pond.

* * *

If she was honest, Amy knew, knew, absolutely _knew _that the Doctor wouldn't bring them somewhere like this - intentionally or not - unless there was something weird going on.

And, judging by the mound of dust that Ellie the health and safety co-ordinator's phone was resting on in the middle of the trailer… 'weird' was definitely something that was occurring here.

The Doctor, of course, was almost nose deep in the dust as soon as the stress-y security guy opened the door.

"Phone-dust!" He looked up at Amy and Rory, checking between them for approval. "How cool is _that_?"

"Not very," Rory grumbled, clearly torn between some new alien mystery type thing and the festival occurring behind them.

Undeterred by their non-agreement, the Doctor transferred his attention to the security guy. "I take it _this_," he said, pointing a grand finger down on the phone, "is Ellie's?"

Amy couldn't help but sympathise with how out of his depth the poor man looked.

"Um… I-I think so."

His worried demeanour wasn't really bothering the Doctor, who was delicately hovering his ear over the phone to prevent disturbing the dust. "And it's on."

Pricking her ears up, Amy could just make out the squealing dial tone of a phone left off the hook.

"So…" the Doctor slowly theorised, "Ellie was in the middle of a phone call… but then had to go and decided to leave her phone in a pile of dust."

A frown worked its way across the security guy's features. "Really? That's all?"

"No, of course not," the Doctor scoffed, grinning as he jumped to his feet. He patted the man's cheek as patronisingly as possible. "Bless."

"What then?"

Amy and Rory both came to the same realisation simultaneously.

"Oh, no," Rory moaned, both tired and disgusted.

The Doctor snapped his fingers and pointed at him. "Give a medal to Mr Pond." His attention snapped back to security man. "And I'm guessing by the slight sheen of sweat gathering on your forehead that this isn't the first time this has happened."

"The first time… what… what are you talking about?"

Sighing and rolling his eyes, the Doctor nodded at the mound of dust formerly known as Ellie sitting on the floor. "The first time people have vanished and been turned into…"

Amy cleared her throat quickly, getting the Doctor's attention. She gave a prompting nod to security man, trying to get across that maybe he didn't need to hear that people were being turned into dust by killer phones. The Time Lord looked back to security man, and his expression softened.

"…disappeared people. Not to worry, uh… what's your name?"

"Ed."

"Ed. Red Ed, that's what I'll call you. That's not a Communist thing, just… rhyming. Is Communism a big thing at the moment? I get my dates mixed up a lot, especially on this planet. I was just in 1960s America, thought I was in 1960s England going to a football match. Got the strangest looks for shouting 'come on you reds'. Anyway! Disappearing people, not the first time, am I right Red Ed?"

"Y- right, yes."

"And not just at the festival?"

Ed shook his head.

"Okay then, and of course, that's why we're here, special health and safety in charge of staff disappearances, it's a growing concern at these kinds of events. Not that anyone will know about this, so there's no point talking to security or anything, they'll just get confused."

He whipped out the sonic screwdriver and whirled on the spot, waving it about and scanning the dust. While the Doctor checked the readings, Amy made her way to the very confused Ed.

"So, Mr Ed, it'd probably be best if the police were kept out of this as well, yeah? We're here to sort the situation quickly, quietly and with a minimum of fuss. Isn't that right, Roranicus?"

But Roranicus was staring at the dust.

"_Roranicus."_

"Hm?"

"Isn't that right?"

"Yes…" His head whipped up, and he nodded quickly. "Yes! Yes, it is. That is _so _right."

Ed nodded numbly. "Okay. Yeah, yeah, makes… yeah, makes sense."

With her best official smile, Amy thumped him on the arm. "Great! So if you could go about getting us something to make us fit in a little better. Some of those passes to go around our necks, and oh, oh, oh! Maybe some hi-viz jackets?"

"Okay…" he said quietly, walking out of the trailer like a zombie.

The beleaguered man was barely down the first step before Amy slammed the door shut. She whirled on her heel to look down at the Doctor, who, on all fours, was examining the pile of dust in every conceivable way he could without touching it.

"Okay, come on then. We know you're dying to do it."

"Do what?" the Doctor replied without even looking up.

"Explain everything that's going on in great detail, show off how smart you are, tell us how stupid we are, _come on_, there's a music festival!"

Rory pointed a waving finger of agreement in Amy's direction. "Very much concur."

Time Lord eyes peeked up at them from beneath the Stetson. With a grin, he bounced to his feet.

"Okay! Ellie's missing, but there's a pile of dust in her place. She's not the first, and judging by how Red Ed was looking at the dust, that wasn't new either. Scanned it with the sonic screwdriver and found it was composed entirely of organic matter, so the dust… is Ellie. Dust, not ashes, she wasn't burnt."

Amy could see Rory's face, imagined he was trying to put the image of burn victims out of his mind, and held his hand. He squeezed it.

Naturally oblivious, the Doctor blundered on. "Sonic also picked up a lack of energy in the dust, which is odd."

"Odd?" Amy asked. "It's dust."

"Yes," the Doctor conceded, finger in the air, "but everything in the universe has a certain level of subatomic energy, however low, and the sonic registers that not only is the energy in the dust _really _low, it's getting lower." He looked down at the dust, sadly tucking the sonic screwdriver into his inside pocket.

"Ellie literally had the life sucked right out of her. And still is, it seems."

No-one really had anything to say to that. At least, for a good couple of seconds. The only sounds they could hear were the muffled crowds outside, random yells and happy cries clashing horribly with how Amy was feeling, looking at a mound of dust that used to be a person.

Rory cleared his throat. "I think the festival can wait."

The Doctor looked mortified. "What? No! You lot need to get out there, ask questions! Find out who else has disappeared, when they disappeared, why they disappeared, what they disappeared, and then maybe we can figure out how."

"'What they disappeared'?" Amy asked.

"Shush Pond, I'm KABLAMMO and I'm on a roll."

"Um…" Rory put a questioning finger in the air. "What are you going to be doing while we're doing that?"

"Oh, you know, running around, making friends, my usual thing. Now go children, go, dust-people mysteries don't solve themselves."

There was a knock on the door, and Amy felt everyone instantly go on edge. Amy nudged Rory's arm, who gingerly moved over to the door.

Fingertips on the handle, he pressed it down and leapt back, where the two Ponds took up martial arts fighting poses that were probably not that intimidating.

Though you wouldn't have known it to see Ed's horrified face looking up at them. "I got your hi-viz jackets. And the passes."

"Hi-viz!" the Doctor exclaimed, shoving past the Ponds to grab his and holding it up in front of him. "How cool is that?!"

He sounded every bit the nerd Amy knew him to be. All that was missing was thick horn-rimmed glasses and a snort.

* * *

(A/N: Hello, here I am again! Last time I posted a story was January 2011, and the last Doctor Who related post was August 2010. So… yeah. Long time. Hope you enjoy it!

Reviews please! Blimey. Haven't typed these words in some time.)


	3. Talking, Questions, All That Stuff

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who_

_**Hush**_

_**Chapter Two: Talking, Questions, All That Stuff**_

"Gah!"

Amy winced as her foot was sucked into another muddy hole. Rather than ask (again) why they couldn't go back to the TARDIS and fetch her wellies, Rory just settled for offering her a hand.

Making a lot of uncertain noises as she wobbled back and forth, Amy finally managed to free her leg with an unappealing 'plop' sound.

"I still look like an authority on health and safety, yeah?"

To be honest, 'health' and 'safety' were two words Rory had never, _ever _associated with his wife. "Oh yeah, completely."

She broke out in a small smile and poked his arm. "You're very nice to me."

"Just to you, though. It's a well kept secret that I'm horrible to everyone else."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The Rory you know is just a brilliant performance."

They continued on, keeping an eye out for any further mud pockets as they made their way to the stage. The security guy at the foot of the steps leading backstage gave their passes a cursory look before nodding them inside.

A grateful breath escaped Amy as her feet rested on something solid, and they made their way into the titanic backstage area.

Usually, Rory would be excited. Everything short of squealing like a little girl, really. But the fact he was here asking about dust-people hampered the frenzy a little. He scanned around for anyone who looked relatively open to being chatted to, but everyone was busy doing something.

Amy, less than concerned with someone actually _wanting _to chat, made a beeline for the nearest staff member, a technician fiddling with something behind a gargantuan speaker. Not that Rory could blame her. True, Mrs Williams wasn't the most of patient of people, but they _had _spent an obscene amount of time trying to talk to festival-goers.

The only thing they had really accomplished was convincing a bearded man to pull his trousers back up.

Blinking himself out of his daze, Rory followed Amy.

"Excuse me, hi," Amy said, sounding every bit the official employee she was pretending to be.

The technician, a curly-haired man with lazy eyes, looked up at her but didn't reply.

"Hi," she reasserted, holding up her pass. "I'm with a special branch of health and safety-"

"The disappearing people, yeah?" he asked, gentle Welsh accent lilting through.

Amy exchanged an impressed look with Rory. "Uh… yeah."

"BILL!"

The volume of the cry made both Amy and Rory jump. A red-faced bear of a man jumped out from behind a speaker on the other side of the stage.

"They're here about the disappearing people!"

Bill dropped whatever tools he was using with a loud clatter and bustled over.

The curly-haired tech got to his feet and shoved out his hand. "I'm Bob."

Amy slowly took his hand and shook it while Rory did the same with the arriving Bill.

"Bill… and Bob?" Rory asked slowly.

"Yeah."

There was no hint of irony from either party.

Amy didn't seem bothered by the alliteration. "Bill and Bob, great. Nice to meet you. Amy and Rory, husband and wife health and safety team."

Somehow Rory felt like he should put his hands on his hips, but thought better of it.

"So," Bob said, folding his arms, "the disappearances. What's going on?"

"That's what we're here to find out," Amy replied confidently. Rory suddenly realised that she had previous; she used to be a policewoman. A _kiss-o-gram _policewoman, but still. Authority.

Rory just wished he had a notebook to flip out. "So… have there been a lot of disappearances?"

Bob shook his head. "Just the co-ordinator."

"The co-ordinator?"

"Arse with a megaphone. Always blaring away on the bloody thing, even when you were stood right next to him."

"Hm," Amy replied, and Rory couldn't tell if she was being genuine or was just taking the policewoman act too far. "Did he and Ellie know each other?"

"Don't think so."

"Anything in common?"

"Not really. Never saw them even speak to each other."

Bill grunted, and Bob looked at him blankly for a moment before suddenly bursting to life. "Oh! Right you are, Bill. There was one time he shouted at her for playing her music too loud in her trailer."

A frown wormed its' way across Rory's brow. "Complaining about loud music? At a festival?"

"Yeah, well, like I said. Arse."

"Did she stop?" Amy asked.

"No, not her." He smiled. "Lovely girl, really. Is she all right?"

Amy and Rory glanced unsurely at each other, and Bob sighed.

"Oh, no. Not Ellie. Bloody hell, what's going on?"

As was usually the case for him with everything but medicine, Rory's brain processed something several seconds after it was inputted.

"Wait, hang on. You said disappearances, but you only knew about the co-ordinator. Is there anybody else?"

"Yeah," Amy agreed numbly, before blinking and snapping to attention. "Actually, yeah! What's up with that?"

Bill grunted again, and Bob nodded in agreement, as though Amy and Rory could understand him as well. "There've been loads in the village."

"Wait, what village?" Amy managed, shaking her head confusedly.

"And define 'loads'," Rory added.

"You know, the village. Just down the road, I forget the name. The festival committee got loads of jip from the residents on account of all the noise. And as for how many, oh…" He puffed out his cheeks as he mentally tallied it up. "…six or seven? I mean, the police looked into it, but… well, that was it. They said they were looking into it."

"And I take it no-one's told them about the disappearances here?" Rory asked, though he didn't phrase it like a question.

Bill snorted in what Rory guessed accounted for a laugh on his part, and Bob joined him.

"No, of course not. You know how much money is poured into this thing. I-"

He stopped as he noticed something over Rory's shoulder. He turned to see a stiff looking woman, he guessed in her late twenties or early thirties, with her hair tied back in a tight bun. A green box full to the brim with baguettes clutched in her arms, she was doing her best to listen in without making it _too _obvious.

Which it was to Bill, apparently. Rory only noticed because of years worth of time travelling experience.

"Yes, Susan?" Bill asked laconically. "Can we help you?"

Susan shook her head fiercely. "No. I mean, the sandwiches, where-"

Bill jabbed a finger offstage. "Not here."

Nodding nervously, Susan whirled on her heel and ran off sharpish.

"Harsh," Amy said.

"Not if you knew her. She's always snooping about, listening in. Hasn't bothered to say a word to anyone since she arrived, doesn't know anything about anything going on here."

"How do you mean?" Rory asked.

"Well… I mean, it's not exactly compulsory, but she doesn't know anything about music. Doesn't know any of the bands headlining. She doesn't seem to know anything about the technical side of things either… honestly, I don't know why she's here."

Amy cast a suspicious look back at the stairway Susan had disappeared down. "We'll have a word with her."

Bob and Bill exchanged a look.

"Do you think she's got something to do with the disappearances?" Bob asked slowly. Rory didn't really like the way the tech was relishing this. It reminded him of the way the old ladies would gossip in Leadworth. Mostly harmless, but with an undercurrent of real unpleasantness.

"What? No," Amy admonished, using her best 'don't be an idiot' attitude. "I mean about who hired her. No point her being here if she can't do anything."

"Oh." Bob looked disappointed. "Yeah, good idea."

Mrs Williams clapped her hands and rubbed them together in a disturbingly Doctor-esque gesture. She seemed to recognise it and abruptly dropped the hands.

"Anyway. Thanks for the info, lads, it's all been very helpful. Let us know if there's anything else."

"To do with the disappearances, that is," Rory interjected.

Amy nodded. "Ah. Yes. That."

The Ponds whirled on the spot and headed to the stairs, whispering their conversation.

"We're going to talk to Susan about disappearing people, yeah?"

"Oh, completely."

"You did a bit of a Doctor thing there, by the way-"

"I know, shut up."

* * *

As he bounced off the road and onto the just emerging pavement, the Doctor couldn't help another glance down at his hi-viz jacket. Amy had commented that it looked like a lifejacket the way his green coat was stuffed underneath. But the Doctor didn't care. The Doctor rarely did. He noticed if someone disapproved (usually), but care? Nah.

Well, unless it was something that could hurt someone. Although even then he usually needed a slap in the face to bring his attention to it. Metaphorical, of course. Real slaps made his brain stop completely, and that was disconcerting to him.

The sonic screwdriver bleeped in his coat as soon as he rounded the corner to the right, leading him into the village. It felt bizarre how there was nothing-nothing-nothing and then suddenly 'hello, village!' - probably how people felt when he jumped into their boring lives being brilliant and clever and all the other things that described him.

Slap in the face. Come on, screwdriver's doing things.

He yanked the screwdriver from his pocket and waved it around, finding indications of the signal he had picked up from Ellie's phone.

Oh, had he neglected to tell Amy and Rory about the strange very possibly dangerous alien signals Ellie's phone had been emitting? And that he detected the same signals coming from this nearby village indicating that whatever it was that had turned Ellie into dust had been there as well?

That didn't sound like him.

Said signal was getting stronger at the house on the corner - the house closest to the festival. Even though that _was_ a mile or two.

"Hm."

The signal was duplicating. Or rather, the screwdriver was picking up the signal coming from different directions. Almost a new direction for every step he took into the village. This thing had been everywhere. Or it still _was_ everywhere.

He suddenly had that nasty tingling sensation in the back of his head one got when they knew they were being watched. With a cautious twitchiness he hated, the Doctor quickly checked around. No-one.

Cocking a curious eyebrow, the Doctor upped the scanning intensity, and the whirring volume of the screwdriver increased. Stretching out even further, the screwdriver picked up the signal coming from the entire village. He didn't know his geography too well, however - were there other villages nearby? Towns, cities?

City of the dust-people. Sounded like a horrible movie. Good band name, though. At least, he imagined. He used to know stuff like that with such certainty. Now it randomly popped in and out. For example, he had a vague recollection of loving an Earth sport called 'cricket', but now he couldn't for the life of him remember how to play it. The price one paid for changing their brain on a semi-regular basis, he supposed.

A phone booth on his left sprang to life, and the Doctor jumped around in shock, his hat hopping off his head. After juggling the headwear in as dignified a manner as possible, he returned it to its rightful place, pausing a moment to self-consciously straighten it out before proceeding.

The phone kept on ringing, and the Doctor was about to ignore it when one of those inexplicable impulses popped into his head. Or it might have been how the sonic screwdriver was picking up the strongest signal yet from the ringing phone.

"Dust phone…"

"Don't answer it."

Though this shock was less dramatic than the first, the Doctor still ended up juggling, this time with his sonic screwdriver. Turning around on the spot, the Doctor found himself looking at an old lady. Well, old relative to humans. To him she was positively a baby. Couldn't have been older than 150, surely. Judging by the open door of the house behind her, she had been watching his little exploration.

"Why not?"

"It's one of those sales calls."

"One of-"

The Doctor looked back to the ringing booth, then back to the woman.

"And that's bad, is it?"

She nodded frantically. "You know the ones I mean. Where there's a long silence before one of those people from the call centres talks to you about double glazing or conservatories."

"Yes, I get them myself. Inspirational leaders and sales calls, that's all the TARDIS will let through. Annoying, yes… but nothing to be scared of, surely?"

"Around here it is. People disappear when they take those calls."

"Do they now?"

His pleased smile seemed to disturb the lady, who nevertheless nodded again. "The couple that lived in that house over there. The wife - she's called Deirdre - told me that the husband - he's called Gregory - took one of those phone calls and then vanished into a cloud of smoke."

"And a pile of dust?"

"Yes, I- how did you know that?"

"Oh, you know, smoke, dust, there's that whole grey cloudy… link… thing," he said, wafting a vague hand around. "And where is Deirdre now?"

"She's gone to stay with her sister. Poor thing. Though it's probably safer than here."

"'Safer'?" he half scolded, half scoffed. "How boring is _she_? But anyway. Conservatories."

"Well… yes, but… I said the bit about people disappearing into dust?"

"Yeah, yeah, but… conservatories." He smiled daringly at the booth. "I could use a conservatory…"

He took a step forward, but then noted (though he didn't care) the way the lady clutched his arm. Sighing, he patted her hand to let her know it was okay to let go, that he knew what he was doing.

Well, so long as _someone_ believed it.

Cricking his neck, the Doctor brought up the sonic screwdriver. "How about we just listen in instead?"

Aiming it at the phone itself, he activated the screwdriver, knocking the handset from the cradle and leaving it to dangle from the coiled cable. Then, bringing the screwdriver up so he could see the settings, he adjusted it to receive audio signals.

At first, there was just silence.

And then the screwdriver exploded in his hand, though it wasn't anything painful. No hot searing stinging sensation like when he blew up his old one in Leadworth. It just sort of… popped, and then fell to pieces in his hands.

Or, more accurately, it fell _through _his fingers, the dust that was his screwdriver piling up next to his boot.

"Ah. Well. That's…" He let out a frustrated groan, took off his hat and scratched his head irritably. "…really not what I wanted you to do."

Squatting down beside the dust, he hovered his palm above it. "Now I'll have to add an anti-turning-into-dust setting. Remind me," the said to the lady, pointing an authoritative finger over his shoulder.

With that, he hopped to his feet and tugged the lapels of his coat. Glancing down, he then tugged the lapels of his hi-viz jacket for the sake of symmetry. Or 'OCD' as Rory had called it.

A cautious hand out in front of him (though he wasn't sure what good it would do against a signal that turned people into dust), the Doctor slowly made his way towards the phone booth, eyes on the dangling handset.

The lady let out an almost inaudible squeak before retreating back to her house. Feeling a little more at ease, the Doctor closed the gap to the booth quickly, as if to catch… whatever it was in the phone by surprise.

Once inside the booth, and keeping an ever-so-slightly scared eye on the handset, he slowly crouched down beside it. As his head approached it, however, all he could make out was the high pitched alarm noise requesting that he hang up the phone.

"Just like Ellie's…" he murmured. The Doctor gave himself a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Trying to take in every detail, see if there was something he was missing.

"Okay," he resolved quietly, "Experiment time. I love experiment time. King of experiments, that's me. Nothing bad ever came from me experimenting. Except for that time with Amy's hairdryer. And Rory's iPad. And that one time with the fluid link."

For a moment, he saw outside himself, and realised he was man with a cowboy hat, green trench coat, hi-viz jacket and a bowtie crouching in a telephone booth talking to himself.

How cool was _he_?

Gently, he took the handset and placed it back on the cradle. He held his hands out in front of him like a magician waiting for a trick to go off.

Nothing.

His shoulders slumped in disappointment. Flummoxed, he put a hand on his hip and rested his other arm on the top of the main box where the buttons and coin slot were, tapping his fingers rhythmically.

"Didn't ring this time. What's different now? No sonic screwdriver, that's true, but Ellie didn't have a sonic screwdriver." His eyes widened in horror, looking around the village. "Or did she? Did Gregory and Deirdre? Has everyone in this village got a sonic screwdriver?"

He scowled and shook his head. "No, of course not, don't be stupid. Nobody called Deirdre could own a sonic screwdriver."

Something caught his attention. His finger was still tapping on top of the metal box… but the sound was wrong. Not hollow enough. Which meant there was something more in there than there should be.

Pressing his ear to the box and ignoring the way it nudged his hat at an obscure angle, he continued to tap on the top, the side, then the front.

"Combination lock." He stood up, and beheld the phone. "It's a locked phone."

Smirking, he cracked his fingers and wiggled them in the air. Once again pressing his ear to the side, he experimentally tapped each of the buttons in turn, being careful not to actually push them down. It had to be a combination of numbers that someone wouldn't press in the normal course of events. His fingers tapped the hash and star keys.

He grinned. "Gotcha."

Using instincts he had learned from some of the most notorious burglars of all time (not that he approved of such things, Lady Christina), the Doctor broke the code like an expert safecracker, rapidly pressing the correct combination of hashes and stars.

The door of the booth made an abrupt clanking noise, as though being locked by something metal and heavy.

Satisfied and sort of slightly maybe smug, the Doctor stood up and straightened his hat. "Geronimo."

And with that, the phone booth plunged under the ground, only to be replaced an instant later with an empty booth.

The old lady, watching from her living room window, promptly fainted.

* * *

After much convincing from Rory, Amy had submitted to buying a pair of wellies from one of the local (rip-off) shops. And _yes,_ her shoes had been soaked in mud so she needed the wellies, and _yes,_ her toes were all warm and toasty, but still. Rip-off wellies.

Rory gave her the eye. "Are you still thinking about the well-"

"No," she said, far too quickly.

She could tell Rory was fighting a little smile, but thought better of going any further with the subject. Frankly, she thought his knowing little smiles were adorable, so the joke was on _him_.

Rory registered something in the distance. "There she is."

Following his eye line, Amy saw that their quarry was indeed there. 'There' being a kebab stand, and their quarry being Susan. Somehow the woman even managed to make ordering a burger awkward and stiff. Reminded Amy of Aunt Sharon.

So, that being said, Amy was going in with certain expectations about Susan's personality.

"Hi," she said as brightly as possible, hopping over a sizeable puddle to land right next to Susan.

Susan didn't seem to know what to do with herself. "Oh, um… hello." She stuck out a forceful hand. "I'm Susan."

"Hey, hello," Amy replied, a little weirded out by the robot-ness of this woman as she shook her hand. "I'm Amy, this is Rory."

He also shook Susan's hand. "We're from a special branch of health and safety."

She just nodded politely, but there was no other reply.

"We're here about…" Amy checked around for anyone nearby before continuing. The kebab vendor was busy and didn't look too interested in what he thought were three staff members discussing things that were completely unrelated to the sale of kebabs. "…the disappearances."

The woman had the gall to look shocked. "Oh. I didn't know it was that serious."

"Everything is serious to special branch, madam," Rory said, his voice deepening so imperceptibly that Amy was fairly sure she was the only one in the universe who could have noticed. She caught her husband's eye and shook her head with the same level of subtlety, and he looked ever so slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, I suppose so," Susan said. And then, suddenly, she seemed to become a human being, and checked the area secretively. "Actually, can I tell you something?"

"Yeah!" Amy enthused in an 'of course you bloody well can' tone.

This time it was Rory's turn to shake his head.

"Not here." Their new best friend checked the area again, and nodded to a group of tents beside the kebab trailer. "Behind those tents."

And so off they went. Amy felt like she was back in school, heading behind the bike shed with Mel to discuss classroom gossip. With River. She _meant_ to think River. Still felt like they were two separate people. She honestly wasn't sure if she could ever be able to reconcile them in her head. It freaked her out a bit when River stopped off for a visit and started talking about water-bombing Mr Russell.

Rory, having noticed she was stuck in her own head, gave her a nudge with his elbow. She quickly snapped out of it, giving him a grateful look before returning her attention to the now conspiratorial Susan.

That was when she grabbed Amy's wrist, twisting it around at an incredibly horrible and painful angle. Now, Amy had been incredibly fortunate in her life in that it had been remarkably free of physical pain. Well, except for the childbirth thing. Physical pain that most _definitely _was.

But someone inflicting pain on her? No, not really. Mel - River - put her in a headlock once, but Rory had ended that pretty quickly.

So she wasn't really sure how to handle this situation except to make strange 'ow' noises, and hope that Rory would intervene as he'd done on that occasion, though hopefully with more authority than just waving his arms about saying 'Ladies, ladies'.

Rory waved his arms about. "Woah, woah, ladies, ladies…"

With a face almost made of stone and full of intent, Susan flicked her free wrist about in a very fancy way, and something about the size of a remote control jumped out of her sleeve and into her hand. Though it didn't look like anything deadly, the way she held it certainly seemed to indicate something very dangerous.

Waving hands abruptly stopped in the air in surrender. His eyes nervously darted from Amy to Susan, then to the… thing in her hand.

"Okay, just… right, what's going on? Is that a remote control?"

Amy nodded emphatically, despite the pain. "I know, right?"

"I don't know who you are," the previously meek Susan practically growled, "and I don't care. I bloody well know there's no health and safety special branch looking into the 'disappearances'."

"Hang on, why did you say 'disappearances' like that?" Rory asked, frowning.

"Sorry, can we save question time for when she's not _twisting my arm off_?!" Amy wailed.

"She's got a remote control of death, what do you want me to do?" He looked to Susan curiously. "It _is _death related, yeah?"

The disproportionately violent woman smiled. "Oh yes. Like a taser, but worse."

Looking vindicated, Rory looked at Amy. "See? Taser but worse."

"So? You're the Last Centurion, do Roman stuff!"

"You two need to shut up now," Susan interjected forcefully, giving Amy's arm a little twist to add to her point.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow! Unnecessary!"

"See, I don't think it is. I think you two need to know just how badly this will end for you if you keep on snooping around about this."

"Are you making people disappear?" Rory asked, aghast.

Susan scoffed. "No. How could I make people disappear?"

"With the uh… the…" he nodded to the remote control.

"What? This is a taser but worse. How could that turn people into dust? Idiot."

"Woah hey!" Amy cried, awkwardly trying to kick Susan anywhere in the shin area. "That's… my… husband!"

Looking extremely put upon, Susan jabbed the remote control in Rory's direction. "Stop it or your husband gets electrified!"

"Amy, please stop, I've died like five times already."

"Oh shut up, I died and I felt fine," Amy sulked, though she did stop kicking. "Drama queen."

Susan was looking very confused by the conversations going on between husband and wife, and shook her head as though to shake it out of her brain.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. Though I should just kill you both right now-"

Mr and Mrs Williams objected as one.

"Oh, now don't be silly!"

"-SHUT UP. I _should _kill you both right now, but there's too many people around, and nowhere to hide your bodies."

"Bet you wish you could turn us into dust now," Amy muttered, prompting another little arm twist.

"So! You two will go off to some corner of the festival, enjoy the music, and shut. The hell. Up. If you say nothing, I'll just have your memories wiped. But if you start talking, or try to leave…"

Again, husband and wife were on the same vocal page.

"'The taser, but worse'."

She nodded. "Right."

With that, she released Amy, keeping the taser thing trained on them both.

Gasping with relief, Amy cradled her wrist as Rory came to her side to look at it. Amy couldn't believe it was possible to love Rory even more than she already did, but the way he ignored Susan with her taser thing even though she was only a couple of steps away out of sheer concern for a little twisted wrist? That did it.

Said grumpy lady backed off, keeping them both in her sights until she ducked behind a tent.

"You're okay," Rory said, sounding ridiculously relieved. "Don't think that'll bruise at all, actually."

He looked up and did a cartoon-y double take upon realising Susan was gone. Despite it all, Amy laughed and gave her husband a huge kiss.

Rory emerged from the display of affection a little stunned, but pleased nonetheless. "Okay. Yeah, I'll take that."

She smiled, then returned her mind to other matters. "Seriously, what was her problem?"

"And do you think that was actually a taser thing? Because it _really _looked like a remote control."

A frown seemed to work its way across both of their faces at the same time.

"Should we be taking this more seriously?" Amy asked.

"I feel like we _should_, yeah."

"But… I'm just not feeling the seriousness."

"No, nor me." Rory was quiet for a moment. "You know why it is, don't you?"

"Yeah."

They sighed.

"The Doctor…"

* * *

(A/N: Reviews please!)


	4. Silence Please

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who._

_**Hush**_

_**Chapter Three: Silence Please**_

His cautious footsteps echoed for a disturbingly long time down the darkened, dilapidated corridor. As hard as the Doctor squinted or widened his eyes, he couldn't make out anything more than 12 feet or so away. And, of course, he was without sonic screwdriver.

Searching his pockets, he smiled in smug satisfaction as he found a small, handheld torch. He was always ending up in dark caverns and corridors, so it paid to bring some kind of illumination device. One time the only thing he could find was a glow stick he had obtained… at some event or other. Martha had been there. He thought. Maybe. Anyway, not important.

He flicked on the torch and used it to inspect the corridor he had only been standing in for a couple of minutes. Metallic, and deep blue. The wall was segmented, with long grooves that seemed to run all along the walls at waist height. Bending forward, he ran an experimental finger along the groove.

Dust, though not like the pile of dust formerly known as Ellie. This was just dust, but not too much. Abandoned for… a fortnight, maybe?

"Fortnight… and a day," he clarified out loud, showing off to no-one in particular how precise his dust measuring skills were.

So, metal corridor. Definitely not human, though the Doctor didn't recognise the design. Which, as much as he would vehemently deny it to Amy and Rory, wasn't a rare occurrence for him. But then, he hardly felt it was fair of them to think he knew _every _species that _ever _existed in the history of the universe.

Probably to do with the fact that he _told _them he knew every species of the universe that ever existed in the history of the universe.

Blinking the thought away, the Doctor ploughed on, checking back to see the empty phone booth that sat at the end of the corridor. There was no option to go right or left when he had emerged. It was just straight on down the corridor.

He continued on like that for twelve minutes and fifteen seconds (Time Lord mental clock, very difficult to switch off) when the corridor abruptly opened up into a large chamber.

Being the completely professional scientist that he was, the Doctor recognised a laboratory when he saw one. Didn't compare to his, of course, but that was true of pretty much anything he found. Although his swimming pool was pretty poor. There wasn't even a slide. He made a mental note to see to that.

And to replace the pool itself, now that he thought about it.

"Speaking of slides…" the Doctor said, spying a ramp that led down to the main area of the lab.

The chamber was a short, stumpy cylindrical shape, though 'short' was a pretty relative term considering it still towered above the Doctor's head. The ramp he strolled down fed off a walkway that ran all the way around the chamber, no doubt allowing the higher-ups to look down on their subordinates and nod approvingly or glare irritably. Not that he had experience of such things.

In the middle of the chamber was a massive terminal, the same deep blue as everything else in this place.

"Not the most cheery colour-scheme… must get the workers down…"

The terminal stretched up to the ceiling, though there were only screens - Earth computer screens, the Doctor noted - at human height level. QWERTY keyboards, of course. All of them hastily grafted on to a system that really wasn't designed for them. The Doctor cracked his knuckles, wiggled his fingers about, and got to work.

Or he would have if there had been any power. But as it was…

"Not a thing."

He huffed irritably and rubbed his eyes, wishing he had his sonic screwdriver. Bloody thing, he'd become too dependent on it. Time was he could save the universe using a kettle and some string.

Had he said that? Or had someone said that _to _him?

Shaking the thought away, the Doctor started wandering around the lab, taking in every little detail. Terminals, keyboards, loose cables, dust, dust, lots of dust… actually, a _lot _of dust. Looking up, the Doctor saw speakers attached to the walls of the chamber - four in total.

"Communication system…" he turned on the spot, pointing at the piles of dust scattered around the lab. "…and lots of dust, dust… people dust! How do you get from phones to people dust?"

Something he had caught in the corner of his eye flashed into his brain, and he whirled around to face a thick glass tube beside a terminal. It was about the size of a table lamp, taller than any of the screens… and it was broken.

"Containment system of some kind… didn't _work_, but that's what it's supposed to be."

His gaze travelled upwards from the smashed containment system to the far wall. There was something printed there, hastily, as though whoever had put it there was worried it would be cleaned off at any moment. It was obscured by dust, and the Doctor could only make out some of the black markings. There was something familiar about them…

The Doctor bounded over to the dusty wall and proceeded to wipe it away as best he could. The stamp was only a little bit taller than him, so he had no trouble cleaning it up.

After a dozen quick swipes, the dust was mostly cleared, and the Doctor froze as the once hidden marking became clear.

An image of the Earth, holding together two outstretched wings. And there, beneath the Earth, were four letters the Doctor was more than a little familiar with.

"UNIT," he said breathlessly.

Anger rose in him, only to be quickly replaced, much to his own surprise, by sadness.

"Oh, Brigadier," he sighed, looking around the room wearily. "What have they done to your UNIT?"

* * *

Rory still hadn't let go of her hand, which was infuriating and unrelentingly romantic all at once.

"Rory, seriously, it's fine. Doesn't hurt anymore."

"Yeah, well… still not letting go," he murmured, with a look that plainly said he was blaming himself for not being able to do anything while his wife was being held hostage by crazy remote control lady.

Resigned, Amy rested her head on her free hand to observe the gathering crowd beneath them. Well, sort of beneath them, they were sat on a hill that gave them a view of the stage but was off-limits to the festival-goers. Advantages of being super health and safety people.

Speaking of which, she really wanted the Doctor to come back soon.

"I really want the Doctor to come back soon," Rory said, frustrated.

"Yeah, I know."

"I mean… we've got notes to compare! Real notes!"

"You took notes?

"Well, no, I just mean we've got _stuff _to tell him. Usually it's just him… being clever and talking a lot."

"That boy does like to talk…"

They both winced as the sound of feedback reverberated up to them from the stage. Almost immediately after, Rory's phone began to ring. He dug around in his jeans pocket, finally releasing her hand so he could use it to push the phone out.

When he finally had it in front of him, though, he frowned.

"Don't know that number."

"Probably a sales thing."

"Yeah…" he stared at it for a few moments before jumping to his feet and accepting the call. "Hello?"

"Hello!"

Amy nearly jumped out of her skin as the Doctor cheerily bounded from nowhere to land in a sitting position next to her. She walloped him on the arm.

"Scared the living daylights out of me!"

"Everyone needs a good scare now and then, lets you know the brain's still fresh and… bouncy." He frowned. "Not sure what that meant. Anyway! Ponds, investigating Ponds! What have you found out? And is Rory on the phone?"

The sudden influx of different subjects left Amy feeling a little dizzy, and the Time Lord, who Amy was just now noticing was a little panicky, was running over to Rory before she could say much of anything.

Rory shook his head and turned, unaware of the approaching Doctor as he spoke. "No signal-"

The Last Centurion could only watch as the Oncoming Storm snatched the phone from his grasp, slammed it to the ground and promptly stomped on it. Phones being as durable as they are, however, this did nothing but smudge the screen.

"No phones," the Doctor scolded, before returning to sit at Amy's side and leaving a very confused Mr Pond.

Looking adorably sad as he picked up his mobile phone, Rory sulked over and sat down at Amy's other side.

"Your coat is very dusty," Amy said to the Doctor, slowly realising as she said it what that statement implied.

The Doctor looked suitably perturbed. "Yes, I know. And it's something to do with phones. People pick up their phones and poof, dust. But how? Why?"

The Ponds exchanged a look, and Amy plucked up the nerve to go first. "Yeah, Doctor…"

"It's UNIT, or UNIT related. But that technology was definitely non-human. I found a ship, by the way, buried under the nearby village. Looks quite recent, relatively speaking, as in, more recent than the village, which begs the question how it got there in the first place."

Rory sighed. "This is the first chance you've had to say this out loud, isn't it?"

Amy shushed him and gave him a smile akin to a mother telling the father to let their kid play a little longer.

"Matter displacement, like the TARDIS? No, not like the TARDIS, nowhere near the TARDIS, but something approaching that. And what was in the container? Was there something in there when the ship landed - or crashed? Or did UNIT just use the technology to create something? Or…"

He was silent as some horrible possibility flashed into his mind. The thought seemed to linger for a long time before he whipped his attention back to Amy and Rory.

"Yes, sorry, Ponds. You have something?"

"Yeah, um…" Amy checked with Rory, who nodded vigorously. "Yeah. We met this woman backstage who seemed really quiet and weird-"

"No-one _really _knew who she was or why she was here," Rory added.

She clicked her fingers and pointed to her husband to acknowledge the point. "So we went to have a chat with her. Then she grabs my wrist, twists it around and holds it there and then points a remote control at Rory!"

The Time Lord frowned. "Remote control?"

"Like a taser but worse, she said," Rory clarified.

"She basically told us to mind our own business or she would… you know…"

The Doctor didn't catch on, and didn't look like he was going to.

Amy rolled her eyes. "…kill us."

"Oh. Oh! Really? Kill you? That's… hmmm." He thought for a long, long time. "And this isn't normal festival behaviour?"

The Ponds groaned, and Rory kicked in. "She said she would just erase our memories if we behaved."

Thoughtful, the Doctor nodded slowly. "…and that's… _definitely _not normal festival behaviour?"

Mrs Pond briefly wondered if Time Lords could survive being throttled, but the thought was interrupted by another intense scream of microphone feedback. At which point her phone began to ring. Instinctively she went for her pocket, only for the Doctor to slap her hand away, which again brought about the throttling question.

"No phones, Pond. No dust Ponds here, thank you very much."

"Okay, okay," Amy said, calming herself more than anyone else. "So what now?"

"_Now_, I need to get back to the TARDIS and build another sonic screwdriver."

"W- _another _one? What happened to your sonic screwdriver?"

"Poof, dust. But I can build another one lickety-split, and now that I know what I'm looking for, I might be able to track whatever's-"

A piercing scream from behind the stage interrupted any plan the Doctor was going to announce, and before Amy could think about it, they were sprinting down the hill.

It didn't take long to make their way through the crowd, and there was an odd sense of power that came from waving an ID badge about and instantly being let through.

Backstage was running relatively smoothly, considering someone had just disintegrated into dust before the staff's eyes. There was a co-ordinator with a clipboard and headset who was keeping everyone moving, and occasionally glancing back at the pile of dust that had once been a person.

"The show must go on…" Rory murmured.

Bill and Bob, the two she and Rory had spoken to earlier, were stood at the other end of the backstage area, and instantly looked to them for support.

All Amy could think to do was give them a professional wave to let them know she had seen them. Because, quite frankly, her eyes were locked on the figure crouched by the pile of dust along with the mobile resting atop it that was still glowing with activity.

Amy grabbed the Doctor's sleeve and nodded with as much subtlety as she could towards the offending woman.

"That's her."

"What?"

"The… Susan, the twisty arm woman, that's her!"

"The one with the sophisticated scanning device looking over the pile of dust?"

"Yeah, the-" She gave the Doctor a look that she hoped said 'shut up'.

With a big grin, the Doctor sped over to Susan, squatting down beside her. Amy wasn't sure whether to feel smug for unleashing the Doctor on Susan or worry about what she would do to him.

"So, what's on the agenda here? Collecting samples, or destroying evidence? Because from what I hear, the biggest authority on the subject's already arrived and seen everything you and your people have been up to. So I wouldn't bother, really."

Susan's gaze whipped up to meet the Doctor's. After searching his eyes for a moment, she sprang to her feet. "And you are?"

The Doctor slowly stood up, embedding his hands in his coat pockets. "Like I said, the biggest authority on the subject."

"You're going to have to clarify. Rank and number."

"Oh, let's see… the Doctor, and… well, let's just say 'eleven' for personal reasons."

Susan's head visibly flinched when the Doctor mentioned his name. "The Doctor? You're the Doctor?"

"That's me. I tend to show up when strange things happen. I think people turning into dust qualifies. Oh, incidentally… I hear you put the old Venusian disabling grip on my friend Amy." He abruptly dropped all attempts at being friendly with a speed that disturbed Amy no end. "Not too pleased about that, I have to say. Would have preferred the Brigadier hadn't passed on those little tricks. And I can't imagine Kate approves of it, either. So why don't you give me that scanner and walk away? Make it easier for everyone."

He extended his hand, ready to receive the device. Susan clearly took this as a hostile act, and grabbed his wrist, twisting it around as she had with Amy. Or at least, she _attempted_ to twist it around. The Doctor, putting his lankiness to good use, rotated his body round underneath Susan's arm, freeing him to grab the device from her other hand while also having the added bonus of reversing the arm twist. The Doctor only held it for as long as it took him to grab the scanner thing, though, and released her with a shove that was about as violent as Amy had seen the Doctor get.

"So, scanner," the Doctor said curiously, looking the device over.

"Woah, hang on," Rory interjected, having been silent for some time. "That's just a scanner?"

He glared at Susan, as though she should feel guilty.

"You said it was a taser but worse."

Ignoring Rory, Susan turned her attention to the Doctor. "Records say you haven't been on Earth for a couple of years. What are you doing here?"

"Hm. This must be before the cube thing," the Doctor mused, answering Amy and Rory's question before it could even be asked. He returned his attention to Susan. "I brought some friends for a treat-"

Amy cleared her throat.

"-by accident - and anyway, just because you didn't know I was on Earth doesn't mean I wasn't. I can be very quiet and discreet."

Both Amy and Rory had uncontrollable coughing fits.

"And _also_ anyway," the Doctor said pointedly, striding up to Susan, "you weren't scanning the dust, you were scanning the phone. Trying to catch the signal? Or something else? Something hidden in the signal? Something from that ship you've got neatly tucked underground a few miles from here?"

For the first time, Susan looked genuinely uncomfortable. It always intrigued Amy when someone on Earth knew of the Doctor through reputation. Intrigued and saddened her, because it just another reminder that he had a life that was so much bigger than her and Rory.

The Doctor, with a look in his eye like a bloodhound on a scent, lowered his voice almost to a growl as he stared at Susan. "Am I warm?"

There were a few moments where Susan really made a concerted effort not to crack.

"Sorry," the Doctor said, smiling. "You _did _say you knew who I was, right?"

_That _did it. Though Amy was concerned at how easily the Doctor got into the mode of trading on his name. She thought the whole point of him faking his death was to gain some anonymity.

"It's called the N-Wave," Susan blurted.

"What is?"

"The… thing, the thing you're looking for, that was in the ship. We called it the N-Wave because of its ability to negate specific types of energy. We… the ship just appeared a couple of months ago. Didn't displace any matter, it was like it swapped places with the ground. So there was no earthquakes, nothing to tip off any authority."

"Except for you. Good old UNIT. Except I've got the feeling that you're not _quite _official. Would that be accurate? _Susan?_"

It was like he was using the name as an insult.

Ignoring his disparaging tone of voice, Susan continued on. "We drilled in from miles away so as not to tip anybody off. We set up the phone booth later."

Amy frowned. "Phone booth?"

"Magical phone booth ride," the Doctor clarified, as though that explained everything. "It was pretty cool, I'll show you later, but first, Susan. This is all very interesting, but actually kind of useless at the moment, so I'm going to ask you slowly because that seems to be the only way UNIT people understand me: What. Is. It?"

"It _was _an alien creature, the only thing we found on the ship. Nothing was working, all the other containment units were dead and concealed. But we managed to find one working on emergency power. It responded to specific sound frequencies and we noticed how it absorbed certain types of energy like a sponge."

"But nothing harmful."

"What?"

"It drained energy. But nothing harmful. Nothing that could have hurt you or the human race."

"…no."

Transparently disgusted, the Doctor smiled and nodded. "And you thought 'that won't do, let's poke and prod it and see what it can do for us'."

The woman seemed very unnerved at how well the Doctor seemed to know her thought processes.

"Just a feeling," the Doctor clarified angrily. "So. Go on."

Susan really didn't want to. "It was intended to counteract enemy communications. It was an intelligence project, nothing more. We wanted it to respond to certain code-words the enemy would use and home in on them, absorbing the brainwaves of whoever was speaking, which the creature could then translate for us through a system we were developing. It was almost working when-"

"You went too far, gave it too much power, it escaped, and so on. And now it's absorbing every form of energy it comes into contact with. Phone dust people."

"But why is it here?" Rory asked. "Why a concert?"

The Doctor snapped his fingers and pointed at Rory, indicating that that was the right question. "Because there's something here it's responding to. Something it needs… or something it _thinks _it needs…"

He moved the finger to Susan, where it took on a more accusatory nature. "Did you install the code-words?"

All of her previous bravado was gone. Susan just looked exhausted and confused now. "What?"

"The code-words it was supposed to respond to. Does it know what they are?"

"…no."

"So it doesn't know anything. It doesn't know what to respond to, just that it needs to travel through phone lines and absorb energy when it hears the right noise - if 'hear' is the right term. And it's absorbing everything because it has no idea what form of energy can feed it, because _you people _poked and prodded where you weren't needed or wanted!"

Amy's brain suddenly lit up, and she had to stop herself from shouting and jumping up and down on the spot in excitement. "Noise! Loud noise! Like Ellie playing loud music from her trailer!"

"And the arse with the megaphone," Rory added, becoming similarly involved in the mystery-solving.

"And my sonic screwdriver, and the lorries going through the village…" The Doctor's face went from exhilarated to horrified. "And now it's here… at a _concert…"_

The Ponds exchanged a look of mutual mortification. "Oh, no…"

A drummer onstage let out a few beats. Amy could hear someone stepping up to the microphone and greeting the crowd.

The crowd responded in kind, letting out an incredible cheer.

"Rory," the Doctor said urgently, "get out there and tell them to be quiet."

"You're joking."

"Almost constantly, but always operate on the basis that I might not be, so please, now, chop, chop!"

Amy's phone rang first, and she pulled it from her pocket and held it away from her. She didn't know how this thing operated - would it just jump out the phone at her?

"Doctor, I don't want to be dust!"

The Doctor snapped his fingers at Susan. "Phone."

"W-"

"PHONE!"

The woman jumped at least a couple of feet into the air before retrieving her mobile from her jacket pocket and throwing it to the Time Lord.

"Amy, let me see the number," the Doctor said, rushing to her side and peeking at her phone. After jabbing in the numbers at lightning speed, the Doctor hit the call button.

"Excuse me, everyone," Rory stuttered from onstage, "but I, um… you all really need to be quiet, just for a bit, there are some serious things going on backstage… nothing to panic and scream and get loud about, but still… serious, and don't answer your phones if they ring, um… so yeah, we need absolute-"

A resounding 'boo' reverberated back to them, and the Doctor put a finger in his ear as he paced back and forth. Someone/something must have taken the call, because Amy's phone stopped ringing.

"Hello? Can you hear me? I know you probably won't understand me, but on the off-chance the TARDIS translation circuit covers creatures made of pure energy, I'm the Doctor. I'm not from this planet, but I can tell you that there are a lot of innocent people here, and they're all going to be dead innocent people if you don't stop what you're doing. I know you've been hurt. But the humans who did that to you were the minority, believe me. There's a whole world of human beings out there who are actually pretty nice if you take the opportunity to get to know them and don't turn them into dust!"

Amy could hear the dull beeps of someone hanging up. Whether it was deliberate on the creature's part, Amy couldn't tell. It didn't seem to matter to the Doctor, who threw it away in helpless anger.

Amy's phone started ringing again. A brainwave shot through her and with a sudden burst of energy, she ran out onstage, leaving a confused Doctor behind her.

Her husband was floundering pretty badly onstage, and the band looked like they were about to murder him with their instruments. He smiled gratefully at her for coming to assist him.

She only felt a little bad for ignoring him completely and thrusting a hand into his pocket. The whole crowd fell silent for a moment before cheering at the seemingly inappropriate act that was occurring in front of them.

"Uh, Amy, there are _lots _of people watching you put your hand in my trousers…"

"Shut up, I'm after your…"

She yanked out his phone, which was still the slightest bit muddy from the Doctor's stamping session earlier.

Said Time Lord rushed up behind her as she put her little brainwave into action.

"Amy," he said cautiously, trying to see what she was doing on both phones, "what are you doing?"

"When you called the creature, my phone stopped ringing. So it can only do one at a time, yeah?"

"Yes…"

Amy finished her work, and held up the phones in triumph. The Doctor watched in abject curiosity as her phone stopped ringing… only to be succeeded almost immediately by Rory's. The owner of the phone raised a questioning finger, which Amy stopped with a little shake of the head.

Predictably impatient, the Doctor sighed. "I'm sorry, what-"

"Shush! Watch."

Rory's phone stopped ringing. And was immediately followed by Amy's.

In a moment that was fun to watch, Rory understood before the Doctor, which just drove the Time Lord even more insane.

"Oh, this is driving you mad, isn't it?" she said with a deserved smugness.

"I'll figure it out."

"You could just ask, you know."

"Don't need to, I'm a Time Lord… I'll…" He sighed. "A recursive feedback wave?"

"No."

"Shell-o-track-lick rhythm boost?"

"Nope."

"Crackle block face power loop blast?"

"Yes."

"Really?" The Doctor looked pleased. "I made that one up."

Amy sighed. "Call divert. I diverted my phone to Rory's, and Rory's to mine."

For a moment, the Doctor looked like he was going to shoot Amy's plan down in flames, rant about how they were still all in danger, that she had made everything worse. But then he grinned, and all was right with the world. Like a proud father, he patted her on the cheek before looking down at the phones.

"Call divert. Ain't technology wonderful?" he beamed, before composing himself, clearing his throat. "Of course, I would have thought of that eventually. Call divert, easy. Pretty elementary, really."

Someone cleared their throat loudly, drawing the trio's attention away from the phones. It was the lead singer of the band.

"Sorry, could you lot bugger off?"

"Yes, right, sorry," Amy said quickly, and both she and Rory rushed off. As she went into the wings, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed the Doctor very much _not _leaving the stage.

"So, music, yeah? I like music. Music's cool. I've played with some musicians. Ever heard of Janis Joplin?"

In a moment of married bliss, Amy and Rory each took an arm and yanked the Doctor offstage to the roaring approval of the crowd.


	5. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who._

_**Hush**_

_**Epilogue**_

Rory watched alongside Amy as a man and a woman in non-descript black suits took Susan away in cuffs. Judging from the Doctor's expression, Rory wasn't sure if it was a legitimate arrest or just a show for the public. Though this was going on near the TARDIS, so the only 'public' around was himself, Amy and the Doctor.

So, a show for the Doctor it was, then. He was the only one they seemed concerned with when they arrived, with constant reassurance that Susan was part of a rogue element in UNIT and not representative of the organisation as a whole.

But the Doctor was having none of it, even as they were taking her back to the armoured van parked by the TARDIS. After a brief exchange, however, they did something that Rory hadn't seen anyone successfully pull off.

They ignored the Doctor. Just like that. They stopped talking, bundled Susan into the back of the van… and off they went.

The Doctor glared after them for some time, fingers wriggling as he struggled to find something to do with his hands. His jaw was churning from side to side in that way it did when the Doctor really wasn't very pleased at all.

Slowly, and silently, he stalked back to the TARDIS.

"So?" Rory asked. "What happened?"

"The human race," he muttered angrily, pulling out the TARDIS key and working the lock. He abruptly turned, exasperated. "I mean, I turn around for five minutes and this is what the human race get up to. There are _supposed_ to be people looking after this planet. People I know and trust. What are they doing?"

The wind seemed to leave his sails, and the Doctor's shoulders sank, his voice becoming quieter. Almost defeated. "Eh? What are they doing?"

Cheers and thrumming base shuddered through the air and the ground.

Hesitantly at first, Amy reached out to the Doctor, finally rubbing his arm. "Hey. Come on. Let's go and enjoy the festival, yeah? Have some fun, take our minds off it. Live in the moment! That's you all over."

This elicited a smile. "Yeah." He cleared his throat, and seemed to explode back to life. "Yeah! I'm the Doctor, I'm in the moment! I live for the moment! I am the moment! King of moments!"

Amy visibly relaxed, and grabbed hold of Rory's hand. "Let's go then, boys. First drink's on me."

They started to move off, but halted when the Doctor didn't follow.

"Come on then!" Amy called.

"You go ahead, I need to sort out your phones first - put the N-Wave somewhere safe until I can sort out what to do with it. And I need to take care of the ship under the village, disable it so no-one else can use it again. Might leave the phone booth, though, it was like a big slide in a box. Every village should have a big slide."

Amy looked at Rory, clearly unconvinced.

"I think we should leave him for a bit," Rory said quietly.

"All right," she conceded. "But come back straight away. You'll enjoy it, honest!"

The Doctor laughed, though it seemed hauntingly bereft of his usual sincerity as he waved them off.

As they descended down the hill, the sound of TARDIS engines became lost to the noise of the concert.

"I hope he'll be all right," Amy sighed.

"Yeah, I'm sure he will. I mean, it was just one group of people. It's not like there are people everywhere experimenting on aliens."

"Says the amateur conspiracy theorist."

"When I was like fourteen!"

"And quite a bit beyond…"

"Yeah, okay. But I like people. I became a nurse because I liked people. And then I started travelling with the Doctor, and…"

He held Amy's hands and looked her straight in the beautiful eye.

"…since I started travelling with him… with you… my opinion of humanity has gone up quite a bit. This was a random occurrence. People aren't all like this. UNIT isn't like this. I mean look at that Kate woman who was in charge of it. _Will be _in charge of it. Might be in charge of it now. Time travel, whatever. Humans… are mostly good. The Doctor knows that."

Amy nodded. "It's like he's taking the whole thing personally. He doesn't get this bent out of shape when it's some random alien. I mean, he does, but not… this intense."

"I think he expects more of us. Humanity, I mean, not you and me personally. Although… he probably does expect a lot of just you and me…"

"Yeah…"

After a few moments of deep introspection, the Ponds shook it off. Rory stuck out his arm.

"Mrs Williams, would you care to accompany me to the festival?"

"Why Mr Williams, that would be top dog."

"'Top dog'?"

"Shut up, I was being posh."

"Where do you come from that posh people say 'top dog'?"

And, just like that, Rory and Amy Williams went off to enjoy another great day out.

* * *

The Doctor stood in the TARDIS, resting forward on the console, staring at the Time Rotor moving up and down. He hadn't set a course yet - the TARDIS was just drifting in time. Sometimes it was nice to drift. No chance of anyone walking through those doors, interrupting his thought processes, which were many and varied, sometimes strong enough to stop him thinking about anything else, sometimes so faint he really needed to concentrate to realise what it was his brain had noticed and was trying to remind him of.

But right now, he just needed to brood.

He didn't like that he brooded. He never thought of himself as the brooding type, though he always knew it wasn't true. 'Wishful thinking', he believed was the phrase. As though if he thought it about himself enough times it would come true.

Of course, if that were true, he would have gone with Amy and Rory to the festival and forgotten about all this.

All this… UNIT rubbish.

He had spent a lot of time on Earth, particularly with his last couples of faces. But there were people on Earth… Sarah-Jane, Jack… and at UNIT there was Kate, the Brigadier's daughter… he felt he could leave the Earth to them and feel free to spend more time away. Let them get on with it. He _trusted _them. Occasionally he would pop in and take care of an invasion or two, he was brilliant and marvellous, they needed him… but he knew they were fully capable of looking after things.

But here they were. Humans. Experimenting, dissecting, attacking… how many others were doing this? How many more were organised? It was insidious. Sarah-Jane or Jack should have been on this, at least.

"What are you lot doing? You have such potential… and you just keep… throwing it all away…"

He sighed, his growing anger dissipating into a cold weariness. He slumped down into one of the seats beside the console, rubbing his eyes.

"_Science leads."_

That's what Kate said Brigadier had told her, and she had pushed that on UNIT. But just how far were some parts of UNIT taking that dictum?

It was true that he liked to drift so no-one could come through those doors and interrupt him. But he also liked to drift because it felt safe.

Because sometimes, just sometimes… he worried that the human race would suddenly decide to dissect him.

The time rotor marched on, and the Doctor sat alone.

* * *

(A/N: Almost got screwed over by the 'nice UNIT' stuff going on in 'The Power of Three', but I think I managed to work that stuff in pretty well. And it actually gave me more fuel for a possible follow-on I might write later on in my life.

Thanks for reading, and please take the time to review, it's much appreciated!)


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